


My Secret Santa is a Bloody Tosser

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew the office Secret Santa exchange could bring Draco more than just some silly gifts</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Secret Santa is a Bloody Tosser

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2013 Owl Post Fest for Subtlefire

My Secret Santa is a Bloody Tosser

Draco sat at his desk, staring blindly at the open file. At the noise in the hallway, his head jerked up. He watched silently as Fredrickson walked past, paper under his arm, apparently on his way to the loo.

Stupid, he told himself, forcing his attention back to the file. He'd snuck his Secret Santa gift for the surly cafeteria matron into her office on Tuesday. On Wednesday, he'd been pleased to see her wearing the colourful scarf wrapped jauntily around her ample neck.

He'd not wanted to participate in the stupid event to begin with, but Kingsley, the Minister for Magic, had insisted that everyone put their names in the draw. Now with less than an hour left to the first week, Draco was certain he was the only one who had not received a gift.

He closed the file, put his quills and ink bottle into his desk. He stood to put his travelling cloak on, when a festively wrapped box materialized on his desk.

He looked down his nose at the gift. "Oh I see how it is. You probably couldn't find anyone else to take my name so now at the last moment something shows up." He picked up the package and dropped it in the bin. "That's what I think of your stupid gift, Santa," he said with disdain. Gathering his belongings, he swept out his office.

oo00oo

 

It was nearing seven in the evening when Draco stepped out of the fireplace and into his living room. He'd not been in the mood for dinner at the Manor, but one simply didn't cancel at the last minute on his mother. Draco shrugged out of his cloak and moved to hang it on the coat rack in the hall when a box on the hall table had him stopping short. He stood by the table, his head cocked as he stared at the package. Anger welled inside and he stomped back to the fireplace.

Tossing in a handful of power he shouted. "Parkinson, get your arse over here!"

Moments later, Pansy stepped through, brushing soot from her slacks. "Morgana's saggy tits, Draco! What's got your pants in a twist?"

Draco went to the hall table and picked up the package, throwing it across the room at her. "Thought you were funny, did you?" He glowered at her. "Let's give poor Draco a little present, since his Secret Santa forgot all about him," he said in a sing-song tone.

Pansy reached down and picked up the box before sitting on the couch. "Draco, I have no idea what you're on about. But this," she held up the gift, "is not from me. I told you I have Wotsby in accounting. For fuck's sake, his office is across from yours."

Draco paced in front of the fire, his anger subsiding. "Oh fine, so it's from my Santa. They probably tried to pass me off on anyone they could think of before finally giving up and delivering it." He waved his hand at the package. "Toss it in the bin. I don't care what's inside."

Pansy shook her head. "Draco," she said gently. "You can pretend that you don't care about silly things like Secret Santa gifts, but I know better. You've worked hard to be a part of the Ministry and now your feelings are hurt."

She set the gift on the table. "I think you should open it. Maybe there's an explanation inside." She nudged it towards him with a brightly polished nail.

Draco looked from Pansy to the package and back again. He picked it up quickly. "My feelings are not hurt and I'm only opening this so you'll shut up about it."

Pansy coughed and something sounding suspiciously like liar was heard.

"It's probably some monstrosity from that awful joke shop," he said, carefully removing the paper. He lifted the lid and stared, open mouthed, at the contents.

"Let me guess," Pansy said. "Some of those dreadful candies that make you vomit?"

Draco shook his head. He reached into the box and lifted out a small cut crystal dragon, holding it on his palm for her to see.

"Holy shit, Draco! That's stunning. It's remarkable it didn't shatter when you pitched it at me." She reached out to take it, but Draco pulled it towards his chest.

He held it carefully. "There's a note," he said, ignoring her reaching hands.

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry this was so late in being delivered. It took me longer than expected to find the perfect gift. I hope you like it._

_Until next week,_

_Your Secret Santa_

Pansy plucked the note from his hand. She inspected it closely. "The printing is perfect. It's almost too perfect. Maybe…" She slid her wand from her sleeve and waved it over the page in a complicated move.

"Can you see the magical signature?"

"No, whoever sent this masked themself quite well. It's some excellent spell work."

Draco looked at the dragon again. "And we work in a building full of witches and wizards who are skilled at that type of spell. My luck it will be from that lunatic in the file room. You know," he said at Pansy's puzzled look. "The one who looks like Filch."

Pansy laughed and shook her head. "Maybe it's from Rackford. The ancient old witch in charge of the cleaning staff."

"I need a drink," Draco said, standing. "It's been a day. I was at dinner with mother before this."

Pansy followed him to the bar. "Why did you think the package was from me?"

Draco stopped, the bottle of wine hovering over the glass. He set it on the bar and looked at her. "Pans, I threw that box in the bin in my office."

"So you changed your mind and brought it home," she said with a shrug.

"No, you don't understand. I threw it in the bin and left." He poured them both a glass of wine and took a long sip. "I went to the Manor for dinner, straight from work. When I arrived home, it was on the hall table."

Pansy's eyes grew wide. "How the hell did it end up in your flat?"

Draco rubbed his chin. "That is a very good question."

oo00oo

 

In spite of himself, Draco found he was anxious to get to the Ministry on Monday. He woke early and was sitting at his desk before nine am. By eleven, he'd heard from Pansy three times. When the fourth inter-office memo from her arrived shortly before noon, Draco decided a visit to her department was in order.

"Parkinson, a word," Draco said casually strolling into the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, where Pansy held the title of Administrative Assistant. Both of them knew it was little more than a glorified secretarial job, but they pretended her position was necessary to the department.

Pansy looked up at Draco, head cocked in question. "Problems with an expense form?"

"I need your opinion on something," Draco explained, "and I was hoping you could take your lunch break now."

Pansy pressed a button on the small silver box on her desk. "Arthur, would you mind if I took my lunch now? Draco's having a bit of a crisis and apparently needs my brilliant advice."

"I will kill you slowly for that," Draco hissed through clenched teeth.

Pansy laughed wildly and picked up her purse. "Oh don't blow an aneurysm. He's not in today. One of the litter just had a baby and he's off being the doting grandfather for about the hundredth time."

"You really are a bitch."

"I learned from the best," she shot back.

They went through the cafeteria line, settling on salads, and then found a table in the corner.

"Agatha seems quite taken with that scarf. I wonder if she sleeps with it?" Pansy said casually.

"Oh for fucks sake," Draco moaned. "I'm going to need you to obliviate me to get that visual out of my head. Seriously, Pans, must you?"

"You love me and you know it," she said with a laugh. "What's on the gift list for this week?"

Draco chewed thoughtfully. "Oh I have all of her gifts purchased. I think this week's is a cookbook I'd heard her mention to one of the line girls."

"Any packages pop up in your flat this morning?"

"Not so far. It probably won't show up until later in the week." He shrugged and tried to look casual.

The rest of lunch was filled with small talk and office gossip. Draco headed back to his office with the promise to contact Pansy the minute any gift arrived.

He was thumbing through a file he'd been handed on his way past the department's secretary as he walked into his office. He sat down and was surprised to see a very large steel grey coloured box in the middle of his desk. His heart skipped a beat when he read the name Pierre Marcolini on the top.

He picked up his inter-office communicator and dialled Pansy.

"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, Miss Parkinson speaking."

"So," Draco began. "Who paid you to tell them about by weakness for Marcolini chocolates?"

"Pardon?" Pansy replied. "Are you kidding me? Your Secret Santa just gave you a box of Marcolini chocolates?"

"Not just a box, Pans…the box." Draco's tone was nearly prayer-like.

"Fuck me running," Pansy blurted out. "Shite, I'll be right there."

Moments later Pansy came rushing into Draco's office. She stopped in front of his desk, her mouth open. "It really is the box."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Did you think I was lying to you?" He gently lifted the flap and lowered the front side. The box was its own display case with three drawers that slid out, each one displayed a different type of fine Belgium chocolate.

"Pans, who knows me this well? Or would spend the time to find out?"

"Darling, it's no secret that you love chocolate. You did try to start that petition for the cafeteria to serve only chocolate for puddings."

Draco sniffed. "It was a brilliant idea, ahead of its time. But that's not the point. There's only two people who know I love Marcolini chocolate nearly as much as sex and one of them wouldn't sell me out if her life was on the line."

Pansy preened. "That's sweet of you to say."

"I meant my mother, you cow! You'd sell me out for a grope in the broom closet."

"I'm not quite that easy." Pansy glared at Draco. "Although I have had a bit of a dry spell as of late..."

"Focus, Parkinson," Draco ordered. "I can't think of one person in this entire building who pays any attention to me. Present company excluded," he added as her sniff.

"Really?" Pansy said, sitting in one of Draco's visitors chairs. "You can't think of one person who's been watching you since you were eleven?" She tilted her head and arched her brow.

"No," Draco replied emphatically. "Not one."

"I can and so can you'll if you focus."

Draco looked at her through narrowed eyes. "You're insane. The only reason Potter would be watching me is to see if I'm skimming galleons from the coffers."

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Besides, Potter's dating that Quidditch player from the Heidelberg Harriers."

"You really need to read the society pages." Pansy looked like the cat that was about to eat the canary. "They split nearly a month ago when Potter found out Wolfgang was doing the nasty with anyone who'd drop his pants for him."

Draco shook his head. "The man always had abysmal taste in partners. Chang, the Weaselette, not to mention the fact that he dated Blaise."

"Pot. Kettle," she shot back. "We all have dated Blaise."

"Point, but we were young and in the midst of a war. Potter dated the bastard last year."

Pansy stood. "I have to get back. But I think I'm right and if you really give it some thought, you will too."

Draco found he was unable to focus for the rest of the day and that night his dreams were filled with tawny limbs wrapped around his pale ones in bed.

Draco woke after a restless night and wondered how he was going to survive the next two weeks.

oo00oo

 

Pansy stepped into Draco's living room in a whoosh of green flames. She brushed at her dark bob and looked around the room.

"Draco, you'd better be ready," she said walking down the short hallway to Draco's bedroom. "We need to be leaving."

"I'll be right out," Draco called.

"Well I was under the impression that you'd already left the closet, but looks can be deceiving." She laughed at her own joke.

"Har har," Draco said, exiting the large walk-in closet. "Oh my, my, don't you just look like a walking felony."

"You're just jealous because I know I'll be going home with someone tonight, while you will probably end up back here with your right hand for company."

"Bitch," Draco shot back.

Pansy shook her head. "You are off your game tonight. That was quite weak, darling." She walked over to him and turned him slowly. "And you look like someone who's hoping that his Secret Santa will fill his stocking tonight."

"Oh let's just go. We could stand here bickering all night or we can go and hopefully not be disappointed when we find out who our gifts are from."

Draco wrapped his arm around Pansy's waist. "Just promise me you'll allow me to say told you so when my Santa ends up being someone other than Potter."

"Only if you'll allow me gloat just the teensiest bit when I'm right."

"Deal," Draco said, tossing in the Floo powder and calling out their destination.

oo00oo

 

Pansy and Draco entered the Ministry ballroom just as the announcement was made for everyone to go to the main table and pick up their last gift so it could be personally delivered to their Secret Santa.

Draco picked up the box he'd left earlier for Agatha and went to find her. Agatha had just delivered her gift to Monty from Magical Accidents. She looked surprised when Draco handed her the package and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He tugged at the end of the scarf she wore around her neck.

"It looks good on you, I'm happy you're enjoying it."

Agatha beamed. She carefully opened her final gift and smiled warmly at the delicate music box. "It's lovely, Mr Malfoy. You're a good boy who made an old woman very happy this Christmas." She patted his cheek with a gnarled hand. "I hope Santa treats you well.."

Draco made his way to the bar. He passed Pansy who was apparently quite pleased with her final gift from Boyer, in Magical Control, if the way they were investigating each other's tonsils was any indication.

Glancing at the gift table he saw one remaining package and suddenly felt like he was back in magical middle school waiting to be picked for a team in a pick-up game of Quidditch. He turned his back on the room and ordered a drink, downing it quickly. He was about to order another when he heard a commotion and the sound of someone rushing up behind him. Draco turned to see none other than Harry Potter standing behind him.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," Potter rushed out. "There was a raid this afternoon and it took longer than expected to get everything sorted."

"And this matters to me, why?" Draco struggled to keep his tone even.

"Well I'm late and I didn't want to be late and then I had to hurry home and change and now I'm late."

Draco laughed. "Was there anything in that jumble of words I was expected to understand?"

A tinge of red dotted Potter's cheeks. "I guess I'm rambling. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous or upset. Well at least Hermione always tells me I ramble." When Potter seemed to realize that Draco, along with nearly everyone else in the room, was staring at him, he clamped his mouth shut. He took a deep breath before starting again.

"This is for you," he said quietly. "I'd hoped to give it to you while everyone else was busy with their own gifts, but it looks like we have to do it with an audience."

Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Didn't realize you were into exhibitionism, Potter."

He flushed deeper pink. "I didn't mean that, I just meant. Oh fuck. Here."He thrust the gift at Draco. "This is for you. I'd hoped we could share it later, but…"

Draco took the gift in his hand. When Potter turned to apparently make an escape, Draco grabbed onto Potter's arm with his other. "It's bad form to give a gift and run," he said softly. "Besides," Draco looked up. "I believe tradition dictates that we kiss."

Potter's gaze followed Draco's and he closed his eyes when he caught sight of the tiny sprig of mistletoe that floated above their heads. "I'm going to kill Hermione," he grumbled.

"Oh, don't pout," Draco teased. "Unless you're sticking that lip out so that I can take a nibble of it." Draco leaned in, his teeth nipping at Potter's full lower lip. When he started to release it and back away, Potter took charge and pulled Draco close. He kissed Draco the way he loved to be kissed, with teeth and tongue and bruising pressure. Potter took a step closer, his arm going around Draco's waist, and Draco made a small sound in his throat when he felt the hardness of Potter's erection press against his thigh.

Potter pulled back slightly and whispered into Draco's ear. "Unless you're really interested in making this an exhibition, I suggest we move this somewhere more private."

Draco peeked over Potter's broad shoulder and groaned as Pansy waggled her fingers at him from across the room.

"Can you Apparate us out of here?" Draco asked.

Potter pulled him tight as they popped out of the room.

oo00oo

 

Draco stretched, enjoying the dull ache in his well-used body. He turned to look at the man beside him. Harry had explained how he'd coerced Andromeda to do some snooping for him, so that he could give Draco meaningful gifts. It made him feel a bit sappy that someone, especially Harry, would care that much.

Never in a million years had he expected his Secret Santa gift to end with Harry Potter in his bed. Potter's green eyes shone and his black hair was even messier than normal, and there was a spot under his chin that was going to bloom into a respectable love bite. Draco smiled. Maybe Secret Santa wasn't such a bad tradition after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I've been asked a few times now...Harry's last gift to Draco was a bottle of the best Firewisky. He figured at the very least he could try to get Draco drunk and then make a move on him...or as a last resort, get drunk himself. ♥


End file.
